


Band-Aid

by clefable4tw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Humor, M/M, POV First Person, Romance, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clefable4tw/pseuds/clefable4tw
Summary: “God, it’s getting worse.  How do I even have any energy to put toward this with all that’s going on, but I do.”  Stiles attempts to sort out some confusing feelings about Scott all the while dealing with the events of Season 3.
Relationships: Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in the First Person, from Stiles’ Point of View (POV) and is set during season 3. It contains spoilers for Seasons 1-3 (parts 1 and 2.)
> 
> Most of the story I would rate as Teen, except the last half of the final chapter, which to be on the safe side, I rated as Mature.

I guess a good place to start would be at the power station; Scott and I, on a mission to rescue a damsel in distress – Scott armed with the powers of a True Alpha, I with a magnificent aluminum baseball bat and my lightning quick reflexes. Surely Lydia will be impressed with me this time!

Turns out the damsel was probably more capable of saving us than we were of saving her, and I just walked into one hell of a trap. Being possessed by a Nogitsune was not one of my childhood fears, but anyone who says what you don’t know can’t hurt you is full of crap, because right not, I’m in the basement of the Eichen House watching a tortured soul about to drill a hole in Malia’s head, and I’m about to say yes.

I guess a little backstory couldn’t hurt, I mean, everyone loves some backstory, right? At this point – at the power station – I’m feeling pretty good. Alison, Scott, and I are triumphant in closing the doors in our minds, I am reading again, and I rose to the occasion saving the girl of my dreams from a coyote trap. Pretty slick, if I do say so myself.

So, we run into the power station, sort of… aid Kira in the rescue of herself, catch the villain. Success! But after that, things got bad. I use the word bad, but it was worse than bad. I don’t really have a word for it. And I was already running on empty. Really, all of us were running on empty.

We’d had a nice break before all of this. Life seemed pretty normal, almost like before Scott became a werewolf. Alison was away in France, so it was Scott and I hanging out. This was new and improved, determined to win back Alison because we are destined to be together Scott, but hey, you stick by your buddy, right?

But here’s the thing, I was starting to have… non-buddy feelings for him, if you get what I’m saying. Which was confusing, like really confusing. You know… because I thought I was in love with Lydia, been pining for her for years, drop dead gorgeous, incredibly intelligent, absolutely infuriating Lydia. Sure, her showing zero interest for years – as in we rarely ever spoke – had been tough, but Stiles Stilinski is not someone who just gives up. Sure, her long list of jock ex-boyfriends could have deterred some with less courage, but I persist, and hey, I am on the lacrosse team, almost always on the bench, but still…

But back to Scott. At first I thought maybe it’s just natural, I mean, Scott’s a good-looking dude – the shiny hair, the dark eyes, the muscles. Even the guys at the gay bar thought so, so that’s like… a fact. Scott’s a good looking dude.

But it kept nagging at me because there’s other good-looking dudes. Danny’s a good-looking dude – and gay! - and I wasn’t having these thoughts about him. If only I weren’t such a great detective, maybe I would have left it alone, but inquiring minds want to know, so here we go.

I didn’t have a lot more time to think about it, because soon Alison returned to Beacon Hills, Scott’s back on the chase, there’s an alpha pack around. I’m busy being a good pal, and not at all a jealous pal who just wants to have a fun Friday night without talking about Alison. But, even that is kind of normal – plenty of people feel a bit lonely, when suddenly your friend is off with his girlfriend. I felt it when Scott and Alison first started dating. Lot of nights alone with my X-Box, let me tell you. And you know… researching werewolves. Did a lot of that too.

So anyway, when I finally do get Scott to spend a Friday night with me, to go to my friend Heather’s party, I am not expecting an offer to lose my virginity, but I do a quick calculation – beautiful girl, who I care about, who is interested, and I am single – long standing feelings for Lydia and what may or may not be something about Scott. Yeah girl, let me just go upstairs and grab one of your brother’s condoms.

I really wish I hadn’t gone up to grab one of her brother’s condoms.

Now I’ve got a new investigation to occupy my mind, I’ve got to avenge Heather, and I don’t have a lot of time to think about Scott. Though I’ve got enough time to notice Alison and he are not dating, and I’m happy about it. But come on! That relationship was _Romeo and Juliet_ level tragic. Hunters, werewolves, her mom tried to _kill_ Scott, Scott couldn’t even tell Alison for the longest time. I don’t think that’s too weird, not wanting to worry about Scott being _killed_ by another one of Alison’s family members.

I’m also not distracted enough to _not_ notice I’m happy when Alison and Isaac start their will-they-or-won’t-they thing, but again, ditto the above reasoning, and Isaac can be a prick, but he’s been locked in a frickin’ meat freezer. Dude deserves some happiness, though I’ll never admit it, because Isaac totally uses it to his advantage. Awful, man, just plain awful. I don’t go throwing around the “My mom’s dead” card whenever I want something. Oh, just remembered his mom is dead too. Huh.

Anyway, there’s Lydia! Things seem to (finally) be moving forward with her; we’re spending a lot of time together working on this mystery, and really how long is bad boy werewolf Aiden going to last? Not long at all, and who’ll be there to comfort her when he’s gone? And what, Lydia’s a banshee!? What guy will she be able to share about that with? Really, take a guess, go ahead. Me! Obviously it’s me, don’t even joke with me, saying somebody else. I have waited a long time for this!

But no, Scenario #320 of how Lydia and I get together doesn’t happen. So what? When one door closes another door opens, even though she’s still seeing Aiden, even though she kisses me when I'm having an anxiety attack, even though she's my anchor during the ceremony, even though I saved her leg from a coyote trap. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t not help her because she doesn’t want to date me, but a little appreciation would be nice.

So, Kira is rescued, we’re not sure why she’s not dead from all that electricity right now, but she’s alive, and I’m noticing her and Scott making eyes at each other. Hey, that’s cool, do what you gotta do man, don’t know why my chest hurts thinking about it, but we’ve got bigger problems to deal with – demon ninja warriors are on the loose! Who you gonna call! Us, you’re gonna call us, but you don’t even need to call because this stuff just comes our way, free of charge, express delivery.

And I’m not sleeping. I’m still hallucinating, even though I did it – I already closed the damn door, but that’s what Deaton said, right? We’ll have darkness around us, the rest of our lives, and I am so goddamn tired.

I’m still thinking about Barrow; how did he get into the school, who helped him, and why do I have this mysterious key on my key chain while I’m wandering around Danny’s Blacklight party. How does Danny do this? And why have he and Lydia not teamed up and thrown a party together, because that would be awesome. Totally awesome.

And look! There’s Isaac and Alison, finally making out. ‘Bout time, could cut that tension with a knife; it was either this or they were going to murder each other. And there’s Scott and Kira, looking like a cute couple. Gorgeous, kind, badass Kira. There’s Lydia, ignoring me.

I bump into Caitlin, who’s girlfriend was killed by Jennifer. Hey, my girlfriend was killed too! Except she’s a girl who is my friend – because damn it, even though she’s dead she’s still my friend – but we were about to have sex too, for the first time. Small world, seeing you here, and excuse me while I go cry.

Caitlin throws me with her with her offer to make-out because of said girlfriend, and further throws me with her question “I like boys too, don’t you?” I’ve joked about it, but I don’t think I’ve liked a guy before Scott, and whoa, I’m saying I like Scott? Hold your horses.

Maybe I thought I was joking before but I wasn’t? Or maybe I just like everybody? Because I’m sure flitting around a lot: Lydia, Heather, Scott. Even that time I was telling Scott I was scared I was going to be sacrificed because I’m a virgin in the locker room, and Danny was flirt-joking with me that he’d spend the night with me – even though I didn’t believe he was serious, I still thought about it. I actually thought about it, when before I said I didn’t think about Danny that way.

Liking all these people, isn’t it kind of like not liking anyone, really? It feels like my ADD. It’s not so much that I can’t focus on anything, but I get hyper focused on every little thing, I examine every possibility, but I’m just examining, it’s not the same as being with all these people. I’m so confused, but hey, my keys are glowing. Why are my keys glowing? New problem. Thank God. Well, maybe not, because I think I’m still the problem, except now I’m thinking I had something to do with Barrow.

Scott doesn’t believe me. I don’t get why, I think I’ve got pretty damning evidence – blackouts, mysterious key, phosphors on said key, but I have to be sure, so I go to the school, match my handwriting to the handwriting on the chalkboard. And I’m not gonna lie, that is pretty terrifying. When you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned, and I’m getting burned alright.

But heroes push on, and I think, “God, just let me sleep, if I could just sleep, I could figure this out.” I’m out of control enough to visit Scott’s mom at the hospital and ask for help.

I do get my precious sleep, though Scott and company get attacked by the demon ninja’s – the Oni – and Scott’s dad gets stabbed, but at least we have new information. I _love_ new information. Even if it is that someone is being possessed by a chaos loving dark fox demon – and oh, Kira’s a fox too, but a nice one, an electric fox, hence how she didn’t die at the power plant. Again, I love when pieces come together.

And oh look, werewolf Scott and kitsune Kira. So perfect. Kira’s mom’s acting like wolves and foxes don’t mix, but they don’t get Scott’s last girlfriend’s family killed werewolves, have been for centuries, so I’m not really seeing the problem here. And Scott looks so happy and Kira looks so happy, and she’s so beautiful, and nice, she’s actually nice! And holy crap, those sword skills.

And I’m over here losing my mind, and I’m still upset about Scott, my feelings for Scott. God I hate that. My ‘feelings.’ It sounds so lame, I always hate when people say that, because I love details. What does that mean, ‘feelings?’ Could you be more specific? But I get why people do it, because there’s a lot of feelings involved. I’ll try and be specific though. What I’ve got so far about my ‘feelings’ is Scott’s good-looking, I don’t like him with Kira, I feel better when he’s around, except not so much anymore, because now he’s with Kira a lot.

I’m no dunce, even though people think I am. I can see the writing on the wall. I think I know where this is going, and I really, really, wish it wasn’t going where I think it’s going, because I don’t see this ending well for me.

But of course, who do I call, when I’m stuck in a cold, dark, damp basement, scared out of my mind, with a clamp on my leg – at least I think I am, at the time. Scott, of course I call Scott. Please come save me, oh noble knight in shining armor. Please save me. As we know now, I was not in the basement – though I am now! - I was just in Malia’s old coyote den, you know, chillin’ - really, totally freezing, chillin’.

I thought I was having a supernatural problem, so when they tell me I have Mom’s symptoms, that hits like a baseball bat to the knees – like – this ship is sinking. Who’s with me at my MRI, but the brave, good-hearted knight, saying he’ll take care of me, take care of this, if he has to. My hero. And I hug him, really I can’t stop myself from hugging him, and he hugs me back, and I feel even worse, because my side of this hug is a lot different than his side of this hug, and I feel like I’m ruining a good thing we have here with my ‘feelings.’

Next comes another conversation with Bandage Face, where he undoes his bandages, only to reveal he’s me, and whoop dee doo, he’s taking me out for a spin, but I see it all, yes I do. I’m there for Noshiko’s talk with the Nogitsune – hey, they’re old friends? Realize that I’m the one who’s been possessed, those are my blackouts, but wait, could I actually be so unlucky as to be dying of my mother’s disease and possessed by a Nogitsune?

I scare the bejesus out of everyone at school, set up the trap in the woods that gets Coach, prepare the ‘package’ and send it to the police station. Oh God. I remember what I did before too, messing with the wiring at the hospital. Watch as my friends are fooled into thinking they’re talking with me, and not a monster.

And just as a little cherry on top, I knock Kira out with a nasty hit to the head and listen in as the Nogitsune taunts Scott – tell him that that hug at the hospital meant a lot more for me than it did for him, and advises Scott to feel free to say his side of the story, “Kira’s knocked out, so how was it for you, Scott?”

“You just told me you’re a trickster. I won’t fall for the same trick twice.” Then I, it, we stab him with a giant sword.

I come back to the helm after Deaton’s injection, but for how long? The Nogitsune’s feeding off my despair. Well, joke’s on you, because I’m locking myself up. I feel safe, and you won’t get any anguish to eat.

Who tries to stop me, right at the door. Scott. We don’t talk about what the Nogitsune said. Scott thinks it’s all a trick, but I can hear Bandage Face laughing at me, because I get a thrill, even during all this madness, seeing Scott ride up here to help me. God, it’s getting worse. How do I even have any energy to put toward this with all that’s going on, but I do.

As we all know now, my plan to lock myself in Eichen House was terrible, just God-awful. Why did I think this would work? I’ll give myself a break though. I haven’t slept. I’m possessed by a millennia old demon. I’m confused about my best friend since we were little.

Then Ms. Morrell tells me if I don’t figure out how to kill this thing, it’s lights out for Stiles. I assemble a ragtag Three Musketeers: Malia, Oliver, and me. We’ll get it done. Or die trying. Literally die trying.

And my confusion grows because I see Malia in the shower and when she rescues me from solitary, I am so relieved I’m pretty sure I fall in love for a split second.

We got to the basement, and hey, there’s Bandage Face, but for real. Entombed in the wall. I don’t know why, don’t know what this means. Now what? I got this far only to get stuck at Eichen House? And it was my own, stupid idea in the first place? I’m not seeing anything good here.

So when Malia kisses me, doesn’t judge me about this hell I’m in, about getting possessed, what I did, and she can actually relate to me, and she looks at me like I’m something special, and not like I’m a sad sack who’s at the end of my rope, I give in, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to die within the next couple of hours, and Malia’s had it rough, so if I can, I’d like to – Wow, who knew I was so romantic? – I’d like to make her happy, if I can. That’s a nice way to go.

Scott does cross my mind, – you know that maybe I’m being disloyal, in this one sided relationship of ours. I might as well face this. I’m going to die, so what am I waiting for? So, you know how a lot of people say they regret not telling someone they… love them?

Let’s start with Lydia. Maybe I didn’t say it so direct, but I made it clear, and the fact that I got to go to the Spring Formal with her, even though she was in love with Jackson, meant a lot to me. I felt like Lydia needed to hear that someone saw through the fake Lydia to the real Lydia. To let her know, “I see you. I know you’re there and I think you’re great.” and whatever she decided to do after that was her choice.

Just like I feel Malia needs this, to know she is lovable, even though she lost control and killed her family, even though she lived as a coyote for years. I see it and I appreciate her telling me the same thing. That even though I’m a hyperactive mess who gets it wrong more often than he gets it right, she still sees something lovable in me.

With Scott, I’m alright with being the only one who will know, besides Bandage Face. Just me and Bandage Face. Scott’s... Scott’s a great guy, he’ll find someone, maybe Kira, maybe someone else, but someone will tell him.

Which is what makes this so much more awful to me – poor Oliver who already had enough problems to land himself in this place is now taken over by this damn Nogitsune, and he’s threatening to drill a hole in Malia’s head, this girl who I desperately want to be happy, unless I let him in.

I briefly think maybe Scott’s better off without me because when Lydia went to the Spring Formal with me she got mauled by Peter. Heather and I were about to go at it when she got abducted and killed, and now after Malia and I were together, she’s strapped to a chair with a drill pointed at her skull. I’ve got a really unfortunate love life, and I’m feeling sorry for myself, but then I remember and briefly comfort myself with the fact that no one, and I mean no one on the face of the planet has had a more unfortunate love life than Derek Hale.

I can’t let Malia get hurt. Come on in, Nogitsune, Bandage Face, whoever you are.


	2. Chapter 2

I don’t have a lot of awareness with Bandage Face at the wheel. Before I could feel and see myself doing things, now it feels like… I just don’t know, guess I’m in Bardo again. I don’t know what’s happening – heck I don’t even know if the Nogitsune kept its end of the deal to let Malia and Oliver go.

It’s just me, myself and the Nogitsune in here, which is why I’m so shocked when someone else shows up, and now just any someone, not even just one someone, but two very significant someone’s. Two people I love, Scott and Lydia, except now I can feel the love is somewhat different.

Lydia is and always will be special to me, my first love, but seeing her now feels like the relief and happiness at seeing a close friend, the way I used to feel when I saw Scott, and seeing Scott now feels like… well, how I used to feel when I saw Lydia.

And it’s funny because it wasn’t easy, loving Lydia all those years, without anything in return and I used to think “If something would just change, please let something different happen.” This is not what I had in mind, and now I kind of wish I could go back. The devil you know, I guess.

At least I’m saved… or am I?

* * *

Turns out I am, after a - wow - horrifying mummy experience. Now we’re saving Lydia, and oh God, Alison, then Aiden. Didn’t like him and Lydia together, but I didn’t want him dead, but we do it, thanks to Alison, thanks to everybody, we get it done. Didn’t have to disembowel myself, didn’t have to get beheaded by Scott. The Nogitsune’s sealed but not soon forgotten, not by a long-shot.

But you know what didn’t end? My “feelings” about Scott. Which is why I’m so horrified when Scott comes over and we’re sitting up in my room and he says he needs to ask me something. It’s always scary when someone phrases it that way, right? “I need to ask you something.”

At first I want to joke, but instead I just ask, “What?” Because damn my never ending curiosity.

“About the Nogitsune.” Scott looks uneasy. This could be a lot of things, but I’m such a good friend, as we all know, so I offer my first guess as to what Scott’s wanting to talk about.

“When I stabbed you?”

Scott gets an irritated look on his face. “The Nogitsune stabbed me.”

“Same difference.” Because I still remember what if felt like, to drive the blade in, the pain on his face, which worsened after my arms twisted it around, his blood soaking through his shirt.

“No, not about that. Later, at my house, before Lydia and I went in to get you.”

“Scott, I don’t remember that. I don’t know what happened after I said yes at the Eichen House.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“You don’t remember what the Nogitsune said to my mom about my dad?”

“No… what’d I say?”

“It wasn’t you, Stiles, it just looked like you, but it said I would never forgive her if I knew why Dad left.”

I grab my head. Of course the Nogistune had to go after as many people as possible, and worse, it used knowledge in my own head to do it.

“No, I don’t remember.”

Scott nods, but he looks confused, uncertain.

“Just say it Scott. It’ll be okay, don’t leave me in suspense.” I try to lighten the mood and fail miserably because I sound scared. Because I am.

“Um…”

“Just tell me.” Like a Band-Aid. Just rip it off, like a Band-Aid.

“The Nogitsune said that you, um, hooked up with Malia at the Eichen House, then asked if I was jealous.”

Did Bandage Face get bored, and just have to mess with everybody, every which way? But that’s pretty lame, I mean, Malia is gorgeous, who wouldn’t be be jealous? Oh my God, people could actually be jealous of me about something.

“Umm... we did. It was a one time thing, but do you like Malia? Is it some kind of werewolf attraction thing? Because she’s a werecoyote? I thought you and Kira were together, or at least pretty close.”

Scott looks confused. “The Nogitsune wasn’t talking about me being jealous of you. It was asking if I was jealous of Malia. For being with you. It said that even though you’re… in love with me, you hooked up with Malia anyway.”

Just got a huge shot of adrenaline. Oh crap. Oh crap. I don’t know why, but I didn’t think the Nogitsune would ask Scott about this again. You know, bigger and better fish to fry. If it were possible, I would go kill Bandage Face right now because I am so freakin’ angry. Not only did it torture me and everyone around me, torture me in my dreams, made me think I was crazy, made me think I was dying, made me hurt people, kill people, then proceeded to go kill people on its own, kill Alison, now this? I can’t come out of this nightmare with at least my friendship with Scott intact? He continues.

“And I was.”

That’s it. That’s the final nail in the coffin. Yep, my mind is going blank. This does not make sense to me. When Scott sees I am not about to say anything, he speaks again.

“Because I like you.”

“Kira?” I’m grasping at straws.

“Do you like me too?” Scott looks so stupidly hopeful, like what I’m about to say is so important, and I just feel like shit, like there’s no way I can possibly live up to his expectations about this. I am barely following this conversation.

“Yeah.” There is no finesse in the way I say this, it’s kind of like deer caught in headlights monotone. But look, Scott’s grinning like a fool while I’m only capable of one word sentences, like this one:

“When?”

“Well, it was gradual, I guess? But I started noticing you… smell good.” Huh? It wasn’t my amazing wit, incredibly sweet set of wheels, or impeccable fashion sense? Just, I smell good? The one area I’m not even trying? Because I’m pretty sure Scott isn’t talking about my deodorant.

“My scent?”

“Yeah! At first, I just thought it was nice, pleasant, you know?” Not really, I don’t have wolf senses, just my human ones.

“Then, I liked it more like… I wanted to be around you more, because I liked how you smell.” This is the most unromantic confession, but yeah, go on.

“Then you smelled _really_ good, like, attractive good.”

“Kira?” I try this one again, continuing with my limited speech. The brain’s booting up again, but the mouth not so much.

“I feel good around Kira, like fresh air, sunshine, on the beach with an ice cream cone good. With Alison, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Wired, electric -” Kind of ironic since Kira’s the electric fox? Yeah, bad joke. “-Like who needs a generator, just hook me up. With you, it feels like... I’m done, I made it, like I ran a marathon, finished, and there you are. Does that make sense?

“And what about you, what about Lydia?” Okay, Scott’s been doing the heavy lifting in this conversation, it’s time I get in the game.

“Yeah, it does. I’ve been chasing Lydia for a decade, ping-ponged around thinking do I or don’t like all these other people. Malia was like… I don’t know, a shooting star. Like a gift, but ephemeral. You enjoy it while it lasts, because it doesn’t last long.

“You feel like home, but I didn’t want it to be you. I still feel guilty you got bit because of my dumbass idea to go look for a dead body in the woods.” Thanks _Stand By Me,_ for inspiring that one.

“But it is me.” says Scott, smiling, like this is the simplest thing in the world.

“We’ve been friends since before we could talk. It’s not that simple.”

“Some things are that simple.” he says, still smiling.

“No, you did not just quote _Kingdom Hearts_ to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Of course he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“The theme song to _Kingdom Hearts_ , it’s a video game. ‘Simple and clean is the way you are making me feel tonight, it’s hard to let it go.’”

“Is that how you feel?” Scott’s still smiling, but there’s something else there too. He looks… oh my God, he looks kind of proud and cocky about it. This is going to take some getting used to, but it’s so obvious, that is how I feel.

“Yeah.” And we hug, and it’s kind of weird, but mostly if feels really good, surprisingly good, and I feel like something I looked far and wide for was right in front of me this whole time, and I just didn’t know it.

And it’s kind of lame, but we just lay down on my bed for awhile, we don’t even kiss. I’m still shocked this is happening, but honestly, even this feels really good. Still, I’ve got one more question.

“Scott, why’d you tell me? Is it that ‘True Alpha’ courage of yours?”

“Well, when the Nogitsune first said it at Deaton’s, I really just thought it was messing with me, but when it brought it up again... something felt right to me. And, okay don’t freak out -” Okay, here we go again with alarming statements, because don’t you always feel calm as can be when someone prefaces something with 'Now don’t freak out, but...’?

“- But… you know how Derek’s been teaching me about reading scents? Well, when I was with you, and smelled you, I was getting the idea you were interested in me too. So I thought, if we get out of this alive, I’m going to tell you. I feel like I’ve got a chance, but even if you didn’t feel the same, I felt like you needed to hear it.”

Oh boy. This triggers a surprised ‘Wow,” and if I weren’t so shocked, I might have actually shed a tear or two, but I’m still really, really shocked right now. I can’t help but be amazed that a Nogitsune was our matchmaker, with an assist from Derek. You know, the Derek I got brought into custody for murdering his sister and he’s never forgiven me since. Some things aren’t that simple.

“I’m glad you told me. I was too scared to tell you.”

“It’s okay.” It doesn’t feel okay to me. But, a truly humbling thought occurs to me.

“Does this mean Derek knows we like each other?”

“Probably.”

“Does Isaac?”

“No, Isaac’s not as good at this. I’m still learning myself. Kind of explains why Derek’s so irritated all the time, right?”

“Yeah, I can just imagine him walking around going, ‘I did not need to know that.’”

It’s getting late and we head downstairs. I grab Scott’s hand, he interlaces our fingers. I feel awkward but we’ll figure it out. We’re walking to the front door when I hear Dad’s car pull in the driveway. I look at Scott, look at our hands, look at Scott again. He smiles and shrugs, which I’m taking as the ball’s in my court. What do I want to do.

Dad’s going to find out eventually, if this lasts. I hope it lasts. Dad opens the door, I grip Scott’s hand, say hello. Dad’s looking at our hands, and I get in the preemptive “You’re probably wondering why Scott and I are holding hands.”

“Is it some kind of… werewolf healing thing?” That’s my dad! He was slow to hop on the supernatural bandwagon but I’m proud to announce he’s all on board now.

“That is a good guess, Dad! That is a good guess, but no, we are holding hands because…. We’re, umm… you know… together. Just thought I’d let you know.”

As if today could get any more awkward. Even I’m taken aback by my complete lack of social grace here, and now Dad’s got his puzzling face one. I know because it looks a lot like my puzzling face, and he’s looking between Scott and I, trying to figure out if he missed some signs that would explain this.

“This isn’t some scheme is it? You trying to make Lydia jealous?”

I suppose that’s not unwarranted, I do come up with a lot of schemes, and I guess Dad knows about my crush on Lydia, that’s new, but I can’t keep the hurt off my face, and I involuntarily take a step back, which is awkward because Scott’s still got my hand, or I’ve got his hand.

“No, Sir, it’s not.” says Scott, who’s looking at me with concern, and now we’re all cringing, because Scott never calls my dad “Sir.” He’s only calling him “Sir” because that’s what he would call the dad of a girl he’s dating, and I know it, Scott knows it, and now Dad knows it too, because he’s looking at us wide eyed and I now I have an overwhelming urge to address his mom as “Ma’am” which I’ve never done before either.

And I feel scared, really scared, even though it doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m reminded of how I felt after Mom died. I didn’t want Dad out of my sight. I slept in the bed with him for awhile. I didn’t want him to leave me, and I’m worried, irrationally worried that he’s going to leave me over this. All these fears of mine are up; how hard it was for Dad raising me alone, how weird I am, this manic kid who won’t stop talking, can’t stop moving, remembering the looks of confusion on the faces of Dad’s relatives when they’d see me at family gatherings, like how the hell did you end up with this kid, this doesn’t come from our family.

Even Dad’s fury when I tried to tell him about the supernatural for the first time, like, 'I’ve had it with you, why can’t you just be normal, why can’t you make this easy for me'. I take a deep breath, and I can feel Scott’s still got a hold of my hand, and he’s got his fingernails pressed into my palm, not enough to hurt, but enough to bring me back to myself. Dad didn’t leave me then, I don’t think he’s going to leave me now.

“Dad, are you okay with this?” Despite my assurances to myself, I sound pretty pathetic, enough so that Dad answers quick with “Yeah, Baby, I’m fine with it.” Dad historically calls me “Baby” only when I’m really freaked out.

“You two be good to each other, ya hear?”

“Yeah.” I’m feeling calmer, my heart rate’s going down. Scott answers too with, “We will.”

“Good. Now, there’s a cold ginger ale and a sub in the fridge with my name on it. If you’ll excuse me...” Dad walks over into the kitchen, leaving Scott and me in the entryway. That was... anti-climatic. But that’s good. I’m in need of some anti-climatic events anyway.

We walk out. “How do you think your mom will react?”

“Probably the same. I guess to them, they’re used to seeing us together all the time anyway, so what’s the difference?”

“It’s a big difference to me.”

“I know. Me too.”

Scott puts his helmet on and straddles his bike.

“Okay, for the record, I thought of kissing you, but it doesn’t feel right. Is it okay if we take things slow?”

In a way, this is a hysterical question because when do I ever take things slow? My brain’s running a mile a minute all the time. I’m always racing all over the place, knocking stuff over, bumping into things because I won’t slow down, but this feels right to me too.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Scott smiles. “Okay, I’ll text you, when I’m home.”

“Yeah...”

“Bye, Stiles.”

“Bye.”

Scott pauses. “This still feels awkward.”

“I know! This is so awkward! Just… go. I think if you just go, it will be okay. Just like -”

“-a Band-Aid. Yeah, okay, I’m going. See you at school tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

I watch him turn the corner, then go inside, say goodnight to Dad, brush my teeth, and flop into bed. I can still smell Scott’s body wash – aftershave, laundry detergent? - I don’t know what it is but it’s there, and I’m scared, how to do this with him, but I’m also smiling like a fool, and I feel peaceful, peaceful enough that I just turn my light off, close my eyes, and fall asleep. Just like that, piece of cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references Stand By Me, which is a novel by Stephen King that was adapted into a movie about a group of friends who go looking in the woods for the body of a missing boy.
> 
> Lyrics from the song Simple and Clean by Utada Hikaru are sampled in this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

So, we continue, but this is really not following any of my expectations of what I thought this would be like. First, we tell Scott’s mom. She also thinks we’re joking. Not a great confidence booster, but it could be worse. Scott’s more frustrated than anything else.

“You two? Come on, quit pulling my leg! Scott, I’m working late tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Mom, we’re serious.”

“Really sticking to this story, are you? Alright, you’re ‘dating.’ Got it. I’m also ‘dating’ someone, a handsome millionaire who I’m nursing back to health at the moment.”

“How old is he, Mom?” I guess when you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

“Oh, he’s young. A young, handsome millionaire. And we’re in love. I’m not just in it for the money. Look I’ve got to go, but we can talk about this later if you want.”

Scott sighs after she walks out the door. “I can’t believe it. She doesn’t believe us.”

But a couple weeks later, I’m over at Scott’s, and we see her again, and she looks sheepish.

“So… I ran into you dad at the hospital, Stiles.”

Scott looks vindicated. “What did he say? Now do you believe it!?”

“Yes... Look, I’m sorry. I just really thought you were – well I’m not sure what I thought you were doing – but I thought you were up to something that wasn’t actually you two together. So…” she continues with a smile. “You two are dating, courting, going steady, boyfriends?”

Scott’s still irritated. “Could you keep going, Mom? I don’t think I understand what you’re trying to say here.”

“Fated, betrothed, intended, destined…”

Scott tries to keep a straight face, but fails. “Alright, alright, you can stop. I forgive you.”

Her face softens. “Good luck, you two.”

* * *

Mostly we spend our time sleeping together – not hot and heavy sleeping, but actual sleeping. I’m shocked how tired I am – how tired we both are – after everything. Scott’s still got a busy schedule: school, lacrosse captain, working at Deaton’s, training with Derek. He stops by when he’s finished and we spend a few hours together in the evening, or I meet him at his house. We’ve both mostly got our respective houses to ourselves. Both our parents work crazy hours and no siblings.

We do manage to have our first kiss. The lead up and setting aren’t super romantic – we’re just sitting on the couch, about to watch a movie – but it’s…. nice. It’s more than nice, but I don’t really have a word for it. It’s not electric like he was talking about with Alison or sunshine and cotton candy like Kira. It’s not ephemeral like Malia, or that insatiable hunger I had about Lydia.

It’s… warm. And afterwards I feel it all the way from my head to my toes, a warmth that lasts.

After awhile, we make our way to kissing in bed, and it’s just so freaking relaxing. My mind finally shuts down, and then we sleep too. I haven’t slept this well in… forever. I don’t think I’ve ever slept this well.

I didn’t think it would be like this, but I really, really like this.

One night, I’m looking at Scott next to me in my bed. We’d dozed off, but it’s dark now. I peek at my clock. Ten o’clock. I know I should wake Scott up, so he can get home, but it’s chilly out tonight, and it’s so comfortable here, and I don’t want to let him go. I just want him to stay here, and I wonder if he feels like this about me too.

My conscience wins out and I sit up, call his name, grip his shoulder. He looks up at me with half open eyes. I smile at him – really it’s automatic now, I can’t not smile at him – and he’s... not smiling. Which is different, usually he does, but hey, I did just wake him up.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

“Do you want me to go?” And there’s something different in the air now. The warmth, the fire, it’s still there, but this time it’s not my relaxing camp fire. It’s starting to smolder, it’s darker, and I feel it just as I feel Scott’s hand slip under my sweatshirt and rest up on my back – which is new. He’s never done this – like – we were both serious about taking things slow.

His question is hanging in the air in between us, and I don’t know what to do. Usually I like new information, new things, but mind’s racing, and before I know it, I’m grinning a plastic grin, and I’m rambling on, “Of course not, who wants to get out of this bed? It’s nice, right? Dad sprung for a nice mattress, because he thought it would help me sleep when I was little. It didn’t, but that’s another story. But hey, we’ve got to get up. There’s school and oh, that test you’ve been studying for.”

“It’s Friday. No school tomorrow.”

He’s right. I completely forgot in my own half awake stupor. It’s Friday night.

I hit my head exaggeratedly. “Duh! Silly of me, but…” But... but… What? What am I even trying to say here? While I’m deliberating, Scott pulls a fast one on me. Literally, moves faster than I can see, and wow, look at that crack in the ceiling! Is it getting worse? I can see it because I’m on my back, Scott’s on top of me, and that fire I was talking about metaphorically before maybe isn’t actually that metaphorical. I can see the red – the Alpha’s eyes – peering out from behind Scott’s dark brown ones. He waits till I’m looking at him before speaking.

“Stiles, that’s not what I’m asking. Do you want me to go?”

He’s not smiling, he’s not… joking, he’s totally serious about this. And I’m all over the place. I gotta focus, but it’s hard to focus with Scott so close like this. I don’t know why I’m all over the place, but I know I’m acting weird, and I’m embarrassed, because I can’t figure it out. I’ve gotta say something though, and I hate having to say it, but it’s true.

“Yeah, just for tonight, yeah.” Not tonight, not when I feel so weird, and it irritates me, because why? Why wouldn’t I want him to stay? It’s not my first time, it’s not Scott’s first time, and hey, life is short, just ask Alison or Heather, but I’m not focused, I’m weird, I’m spazzing out.

I close my eyes, feel Scott kiss me on my forehead, feel him get up.

“It’s okay.” There he goes again. It’s not okay, because I don’t get what’s happening, and I hate when I don’t get what’s happening, but I open my eyes, get up from the bed, take Scott’s hand – because I’m alright with that, why am I alright with that? - Walk outside with him, watch him round the corner, go back to my bed. Even though it’s still warm, I feel numb, and I sleep badly, for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Scott and I spend the next day together driving around. I’m still thinking about what happened last night, and I keep thinking about it during the week, and I conclude I was just surprised, that’s all. I just wasn’t expecting it. Now I’m expecting it, and I’m fine.

So, next Friday, we’re over at Scott’s house, and I kiss him because he’s been keeping his distance. We’re kissing and it’s just like before and it feels really good. 'See,' I tell myself, 'I must have just been tired last week. I’m fine now.'

So, I do my own lightning fast move, and now Scott’s on his back. I know he could throw me off any moment he wanted to, but I can be bold too. He’s looking at me a bit confused, which figures, makes total sense because of what happened last time, so I smile at him, not my plastic smile but a real one, tell him I’m fine, which I am. Why wouldn’t I be fine. It’s Friday, no plans, open slate.

Scott seems on the fence, but actions speak louder than words, right? So I one up him and take my shirt off – talk about bold, I mean, this is showing some extreme confidence, because Scott’s got like… something between a six and a twelve pack, I’ve seen him in the locker room, and I... don’t.

I’m not in terrible shape – I do the lacrosse practices, maybe not skillfully, but I get them done – but when you hang around a lot of cops, werewolves, and hunters who are all at high levels of physical prowess – like I do – Well, this is showing some confidence, that’s all I’m trying to say.

It’s funny. I didn’t feel as shy with the girls I’ve been with, but it felt like, I’m a guy, you’re a girl, not the same level of comparison. That being said – Malia has some rock solid abs, all those years running around I guess, and oh great, I’m way off target here. Scott. I’m with Scott right now.

He kind of throws me when he sits up so now I’m… in his lap, I guess. Not quite how I was picturing this, but I lean my head down and kiss his neck. I think maybe Scott’s saying something, but then I listen in, and it’s windy out, and I’m pretty sure it 's just the wind so I keep going.

I kiss him, really try to make it passionate. I’m not the most passionate kind of guy but I’m trying, but I’m shocked when I feel Scott’s hands on my shoulders, feel him push me backwards. I was unstable as it was, and this is enough to send me falling backwards, and Scott gets up from the bed, and he’s mad, running his hand through his hair.

“Damn it, Stiles. I told you to stop, like, three times. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

Okay, I guess that was not the wind, that was Scott, but the answer to this question is easy: “I didn’t hear you.”

“I told you it was fine, we could wait, you don’t have to … force yourself. It makes me feel like such a creep.” I’m confused. I didn’t think I was forcing myself, but I get what Scott’s saying, if I felt like someone didn’t really want to but was doing it anyway, I’d feel creepy too.

“I’m not forcing myself.”

“Yeah? Then why didn’t you hear me? Where were you?”

“I was…” Focused on my own thoughts. Right – because that’s a sure sign how totally into this I was. Geez, Scott’s right. I must look like the creep right now.

“Stiles, say something!” And there I go again, lost in my own thoughts. I grab my shirt, pull it on quick, and start apologizing.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“But why are you doing this? Did I say something?”

Oh, that’s so Scott. What a gentleman. He didn’t do anything.

“Stiles, get out of your head and talk to me.”

That white light around my vision is interesting – oh wait, that’s the first thing that happens to me during a panic attack. Then it goes dark – like it’s doing now. Then my hands start shaking – there they go – My breath’s getting short.

“It’s so hard to talk to you when you do this!” Scott’s walking around trying to blow off steam, but his back’s turned to me, his voice sounds distant, and I’m scared that he’s so upset. And now my mind’s just giving me flashes of memories: my dad getting mad at me too – not about the stupid crap I pulled, I got that, why he was mad, but the times he was really mad about stuff I felt I couldn’t control, about talking non-stop, or why I had stayed up all night playing a video game because I couldn’t sleep. I did that a lot after Mom died, it helped me not think about it, because I couldn’t figure out how to talk about Mom, and Dad couldn’t either, and now I’m thinking about Mom, remembering her funeral, and before I can think about it, before I can even comprehend what I’m saying, I'm saying:

“Please don’t leave me, Mom.”

Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. I am so humiliated that it actually cuts through my panic attack. I’ll have to remember that for the future. Scott turns back to me, and a strange mix of emotion plays across his face: shock, horror, pity, understanding. Why understanding, because I don’t understand, but for now I’m running, out the door, down the stairs. I grab my jacket – my keys are in there – slip my shoes on.

I’m outside, but Scott’s running after me. Passes me. Is standing between me and my Jeep.

“Scott, just let me go. Please.”

“You can’t drive right now. You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m not letting you drive like this. Give me the keys. I’m driving”

I nod, because he’s right - When did Scott get to be so right all the time? He’s true to his word. Doesn’t ask me any questions. Doesn’t ask me to explain the extreme freakiness of why I started talking about my dead mom after an awful make-out attempt.

We get to my house – my dead mom’s house, for the record – and get out of the car. He hands me back my keys. Oh – I guess he’s going to run home. Because he can do that. He hands me something else, a bag. It’s heavy, whatever it is, for something so small. I don’t remember him with a bag, but obviously my perception isn’t so great at the moment.

I go inside. Lock the door. Go up to my room. Lay down, and because of my never ending curiosity, look in the bag. It’s a framed picture. Scott and me are in it, and we’re little, maybe three or four. Our mom’s are with us. Scott’s mom is holding him with a big smile on her face. My mom’s got a hold of me too, and she’s smiling. I’m struggling a bit.

Most people wouldn’t notice it, couldn’t see it, but I can see it – I know it, because I lived it; She’s not well. She’s hiding it, but she’s not well. Where’d Scott grab this from? I’ve got all these memories coming back, things I thought I’d forgotten.

Mom holding her head at the kitchen table, late, late at night. She can’t sleep, I know she can’t sleep. Her having to lay down during the day, exhausted. Her telling me things I know didn’t happen, but why would my mom be lying to me? Her and Dad fighting and crying.

I know she’s drifting away, even before we’re sitting at the hospital bed. Before the final day, the final hours, where it’s just me and her, then it’s just me, and Dad walks in, and he turns pale as a ghost, and suddenly I’m not there, it’s just Mom and Dad, and I’m the ghost, and here in the present I’m crying hard – scary hard. I wish Dad was here.

Maybe he will be, when I wake up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some spoilers for the movie The Terminator (1984)

Dad is here, when I wake up, but he’s asleep. So that’s like… a half win, I guess. I get up, grab the photo albums and start looking through. There’s Mom and Dad, when they first started dating. Here’s their wedding day, my birth, early years. I’ve made up a lot of stories, looking at these pictures, but I realize now that’s all they are… stories. I know the facts about Mom – where she was born, grew up, her parents, siblings. I know some trivia – her favorite color was yellow; Aerosmith was her favorite band.

“Stiles?” Huh, I didn’t hear Dad get up, but obviously he did. I wonder if it’s weird for Dad to call his son a shortened version of his own family name. Want to ask Mom was her dad so important to her that she passed on his unpronounceable name to me, or was there some other reason.

“Hi, Dad.”

“What’s up? Can’t sleep?” It’s early morning, still dark out. Way too early for a weekend. Mom couldn’t sleep, I don’t sleep. I can see the shadow of it all on Dad’s face; the uneasiness when he looks at me.

“What do you got there? Oh…” He sees the photos. Mom’s always been this unspoken thing between us, but Dad surprises me by sitting down next to me and putting the album on his own lap as he starts looking through.

“I always loved your mom in this dress.”

“Yeah?” This piques my curiosity, despite everything that’s happened.

“Yeah, she wore it on our first date.”

“Where’d you go?”

“An Italian restaurant. That was a big deal to me. I’d never had Italian food before, but I was trying to impress her, make her think I was this cultured guy.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, false advertising, right? Then we went to a drive in.”

“What was playing?”

“ _The Terminator_.”

“You and Mom went to see _The Terminator_ on your first date?”

“Yep.”

“Did Mom like it?”

“Yeah, more than I did, I think. She thought it was romantic.”

That’s … pretty awesome, actually. I’m thinking about it, about that story and it kind of mirrors my parents. They didn’t get a lot of time together, enough to have a kid, me, but they were married for… eight years. That’s it. I’ve already lived over twice that length of time. Dad’s been stuck with me longer than he was with Mom.

“She liked sci-fi stuff.”

“Really?” I like fantasy more myself, but I’m interested.

“Yeah, she liked Star-Trek a lot.”

“Which one?” Really, it’s like pulling teeth sometimes, talking to Dad.

“The first one.”

“Did she like Kirk or Spock?”

“Which one’s the doctor?”

“McCoy! She liked Dr. McCoy?!”

“Yeah, the one in blue?”

For some reason, this makes me unexplainably happy, because McCoy’s my favorite too. And I like the Original too. Everybody on Next Generation was so perfect but on the Original everybody was kind of weird and quirky, and they messed up, but they still did amazing stuff. And McCoy is this cool space age doctor but doesn’t really like technology all that much. He put more value on humanity, even with all its quirks.

I tell that to Dad, and he smiles, but it’s a sad smile.

“It’s unfair. I see a lot of her in you, but you don’t get to see her in me. I’ll… try to talk to you about her more, but Kid, I saw the light on, and wanted to check on you but I’m still exhausted. I’ve got to get some more shut eye. You try too, alright?”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

And I go back to bed, lay down, and amazingly, I do sleep. I sleep just fine.

* * *

When I wake up, I think about Scott, what I can say to him. As I see it, I’ve got another puzzle. “Why did I act like that?” and I’ve got some pieces why.

I’m scared of being left, maybe more than usual because of Mom. People have left recently: Heather, Alison, Aiden, Boyd and Erica before them.

In a way, my friendship with Scott left, and my crush on Lydia did too. Liking Lydia has been a constant in my life for so long that I’m actually disoriented it’s gone. I can still see Lydia, but I don’t feel the same about her as did. Same with Scott – he’s not gone, but my feelings of friendship for him are. That was another constant in my life, even longer than my crush on Lydia.

With Lydia, it was a waiting game. So much waiting, hoping, daydreaming. With Scott, it just happened, and he’s here, he’s really here. I think that actually confused me too, and the same when he turned it up a notch, like, “What? We can just... have this?”

And I think I was scared too, because I know the romance flame can burn bright then burn out, like what happened with Scott and Alison. So maybe I wanted to put it off because of that? But the window of opportunity is funny. You can wait for too little, like, if I hadn’t held out for as long as I did, I wouldn’t have gotten to go with Lydia to the the Spring Formal, or gotten to know her better, but you can wait too long too, and now my thing for Lydia is gone.

Now I’m thinking about _The Terminator_ again, and Sarah Connor took the opportunity, and that was all she got, she didn’t get anymore time – just that one night – but look what came of it! Their son saved the world. Malia and I just had that one night. We didn’t have a baby that saves the world, but it was important to me.

And I’m thinking about other people around me: Scott and Alison didn’t get much time, but they loved each other, they really loved each other. Even though it got messy. Even though it ended.

Mom and Dad didn’t get a huge amount of time. They didn’t know that when they got married, neither did Scott and Alison, neither does anybody, but they were brave enough to try.

Scott’s mom and dad: It didn’t last, but Scott came out of it. They both still love Scott, and I know Scott loves his dad too, even though it’s complicated.

Lydia loved Jackson, and Jackson loved her too, enough that he found his way back from being a Kanima, and they didn’t stay together.

I guess what I’m concluding is just because it didn’t last doesn’t mean it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t important. I can be brave too.

Good. Now I’ve got something, more of the puzzle. Something to tell Scott. I text him and ask if he wants to get together tomorrow, Sunday, and the next day I pick him up at his house and we go up to the park, find a new place to sit. We picked up some take-out at the Wendy’s drive through – in my humble opinion the best of the fast food burger joints. I thought maybe we’d sit for awhile before I got into this, but it’s hanging in the air, so I just jump right into it.

“So, about Friday. I’ve been doing some thinking and… I guess I was scared either way – it’s not something you did, it’s just… we’ve been friends for a long time, and even though we’ve been... dating, it felt like hey, we’re still friends, friends who kiss a lot but… we’re still friends. But anything heavier than that felt like, in some stupid way – there’s line there’s no going back from. And I was scared of losing that – our friendship.

“I get scared about people leaving, especially Dad, because of Mom. I guess I just didn’t realize how scared I was of losing you too. Um.. do you feel like that at all, about me?”

Scott’s quiet for a moment. “No, I’m actually more scared of you not wanting to be, um... boyfriends? I don’t know what to call this, but of not wanting to continue this. About the friendship being over, I hear you, and I guess it is, in a way, but I think of it more as it just changed.”

“And even about endings, I’m not sure anything really ends. Like… take Alison and me. I still care about her, I know she cares about me too. I don’t think that dies just because her body dies.

“Or my dad. I though ‘It’s done. He’s out of my life. Who needs him.’ Then I see him, and I’m furious, then I see he’s got a picture of us on his computer, and I feel happy. I thought it was over, and it wasn’t. It just keeps going. We… just keep going.”

This is funny. It’s like Scott and I were thinking along the same lines, except he took it a step further. I said it was still worthwhile even though it ended, and he’s saying it never ends. Break ups, distance, death, it didn’t end. The never ending story.

I tell him what I was thinking, and he’s all excited, that we were thinking similar thoughts. Then I rest my head on his shoulder for a moment because suddenly I feel really tired, but relaxed tired, and no one’s around, and he wraps an arm around me and we just sit there awhile. I’m still scared but also, I know I can keep going.

* * *

Cut to a few weeks later, and we’re back at my house, in my room, lying in bed, napping. At least we were, because I’m awake now. Maybe I was just going to wake up or maybe I was woken up because I’m noticing we’re spooning, and I’m the little spoon, which I’m kind of embarrassed about, but my more pressing concern is what is actually pressing into my backside right now.

And… I’m not sure what to do. I’m not convinced this has to do with me. It could just be... body urges. Happens. I think Scott’s still asleep. I try moving away a little bit, but his arm is around my chest and he tightens it before I get too far.

“Scott? You awake?”

“Hmm? Yeah… Oh, sorry. I’ll move, sorry.”

Let me just say this isn’t the first thought I’ve had of Scott and I hooking up. I’ve thought about it. A lot. But that’s just the thing. I’ve _thought_ about it. I know I want to, but I feel… self conscious about it. I still have a hard time believing Scott actually thinks I’m attractive.

I know he cares about me, but attractive? Compared to Bohemian Princess Alison? Or Cute But Slightly Edgy Kira? Elegant Lydia? These are all girls of course, but in terms of guys I know, compare me to Danny, or – God, do I dare, yeah, why not?– Derek.

I just feel a bit below the cut, and I’m shocked how much I suddenly care that Scott thinks I’m good-looking, but I do and I think that’s what gives me the stupid - or genius, I guess we’ll find out – idea to reach back, grab Scott’s hip, and lean back against him.

Well, I get a reaction. A much stronger reaction than I thought I would because Scott grabs my hip too, and I swear he actually... growls, and he’ s got a pretty tight grip – I always forget how strong he is – so we’re flush, and I’m _really_ feeling him now, and I’m starting to get some feelings too.

“Stiles?” He conveys a lot with just my name. That he wants to do this, but he’s wondering if this was some kind of mistake on my part.

“I want to.” No grey area here. If you want to, I want to. Let’s go.

“Okay.” It all goes by pretty fast. We don’t really have the patience make it last. He leans over and kisses me, there’s that smoldering fire again. I turn around and undo his jeans, surprised at my own boldness, reach under the waistband of his briefs, and he’s kissing me hard, his arm wrapped around my back, keeping me close. Not that he has to, I’m not going anywhere.

I finish up, or… we finish up? Scott’s rests for moment, then we’re doing some lazy kissing till he gets his strength back and says, “You too.”

He maneuvers over me so he’s once again spooning me from behind, which I will admit surprises me, definitely was not expecting that. He undoes my jeans, I’m holding onto his arm, wrapped around my waist, pressing back into him. It takes me a lot longer to come to again, which I’m embarrassed about, but Scott’s a werewolf, so I’ll say it’s because of that. I’m also kind of embarrassed I didn’t have enough patience to do more than this. We didn’t even take our clothes off, and oh crap, I’m feeling nervous, then I hear.

“Stop thinking. It was great.” Guess I’m pretty predictable, but I’ve got a big smile on my face because it was great, what am I worrying about. It was great, and next time will be too.

* * *

Cut to a week later, and we’re at ‘next time.’ We’re at Scott’s house, in bed and we’ve managed enough patience to actually take some clothes off… well most of out clothing, we’ve only got boxers on, and this is different, all this skin and again I‘m feeling self conscious because Scott - muscles, and me – some muscles, enough muscles to get through my day, and it’s only twilight now, enough light to see, and Scott’s looking all bronzed and I look paler than usual because of the light. So that’s not my fault, that’s just a lighting issue.

I was doing a pretty good job of just being in the moment until Scott rolls us over, so I’m on my back looking up at him, and I’m reminded of that night a few weeks ago back at my house when he did this. We were just like this, except we had our clothes on, and Scott wasn’t blatantly looking down my torso like he’s doing now, and there’s that lightning bolt fear that he won’t like what he sees, so I take hold of his face, direct his eyes back to mine, and he’s looking at me with a question in his eyes, so I say the first thing that comes to my mind.

“Love you.” And it’s true, and I realize neither of us have actually said it yet – the Nogitsune said it, but now I’m saying it.

Hey, Alpha eyes, and Scott kisses me, and we don’t do any more talking, not until later when Scott walks me out. After he kisses me again at the car, he says he loves me too and I’m super happy, driving home, getting in the house, laying down to sleep.

This is big, right? First 'I love you’s' and I have a quick thought about, 'What now?' But, I already know the answer. It's sort of a shortened version of what Ms. Morrell told me during my therapy session with her, except this isn’t hell, not in the least. Just keep going.

* * *

_**Finito** _


End file.
